


Rose and Scorpius - Drabbles

by wrlfgang



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drabble Sequence, Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:12:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrlfgang/pseuds/wrlfgang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many RosexScorpius drabbles that sit in my notes collecting dust. I've decided to brush the dust off and give them to you. They may appear in stories later on but for now, here they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hold My Hand

"What is both light and dark?" inquired the bronze eagle.

"Yer mum!" Rose sniggered, butterbeer still clutched in her hand and footsteps wobbling.

Scorpius rolled his eyes, "What she meant to say, if you'll pardon us, is humanity."

"Well answered," chimed the eagle, the door soon swinging open.

"Alright," Scorpius said, "C'mon, Rosie, let's get you to bed." He slung one of her arms around his shoulders, supporting her waist with his arm.

Rose gasped, miming shock and pressing a hand to her chest, "Well, dear me!" she called to the nearly empty common room, "The handsome and sought-after Scorpius Malfoy is taking little ol' me to bed!"

"Merlin, Rose," he mumbled before addressing the room, "She's drunk, I'm just making sure she doesn't pass out until she's in bed. Not taking her to bed." He waved a hand towards Rose's general area to clarify.

"That's what he thinks!" Rose sing-songed, winking at a frightened second year as if they were in on some odd joke.

"No, not that at all," Scorpius said, tugging Rose towards the spiraling staircase that led to the girls dormitories. "Fuck," Scorpius breathed, not having considered how to get intoxicated Rose up a spiraling staircase.

"Alright," Scorpius relented, "brace yourself, Rose." Quickly, he tucked an arm beneath her knees and swept her up, holding her close.

"Like my own knight in shining armor," Rose giggled, dropping her empty bottle to the floor where it rolled away sadly.

Scorpius deftly climbed the stairs, taking care to make sure he didn't bump Rose's head anywhere. Coming onto the landing, he moved towards the seventh year room, knocking gently. When no one told him otherwise, Scorpius set Rose down and swung open the door.

"Right, now which is your bed?" he asked.

She pointed silently to one of the empty beds. Scorpius smiled at the unmade sheets and the spilling trunk. Typical of Rose, he thought fondly. He rummaged through the trunk, grabbing a t-shirt and pair of pajama pants.

"Put these on, please," he told her, passing over the clothes.

Drunken Rose rolled her eyes, "Fine," she sighed, already stripping off her sweater.

Scorpius spun around quickly before she could take off her jeans, discomfort at seeing her undressed prickling at the back of his neck. The soft-looking skin of her stomach he'd accidentally glimpsed already playing back in his mind. He ran a hand through his hair and loosened his tie, wondering how the night had devolved so quickly. Scorpius hadn't seen Rose this drunk in a long time.

A soft thud on his back startled him from his thoughts. He picked up the wadded clothes Rose had thrown at him and placed them on her trunk. She'd already begun crawling into bed, red tangles spilling out across her pillow.

"Wait," Scorpius whispered, moving over to take the glasses off her face, "you can't sleep with these on, Rosie."

"Oh. Right," Rose mumbled. He was pulling the blankets over her when she caught his hand. "Hey, Scor?"

"Hm?" he hummed, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Thank you."

He smiled lightly, "Of course." Moments passed, the dark pressing in on them and Rose's hand still clasped over his.

"Was it my fault?" Rose breathed, so quiet he barely heard her.

"Was what your fault?"

"Steven," she said sadly.

"Oh, Merlin, no," Scorpius reassured instantly, "Rose, it couldn't have been your fault at all. This is on him."

"I wouldn't have sex with him," she told him, "did you know that?"

"No," he said and it was true. He'd thought they must have but, thinking back on it, perhaps that was just his own jealousy speaking.

"I keep thinking," Rose said, "If I had done it... Maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"Shit, Rosie, you gotta hear me on this one," Scorpius said, his hand light on her shoulder, "You couldn't have prevented this because it was his choice. He did this. Not you."

"I didn't even like him," Rose admitted, "I mean, he was nice but I didn't feel much for him. All I did was trust him. Now look."

Scorpius stayed silent. He wasn't sure what to do now that Rose had admitted to not liking her ex-boyfriend.

"Someone told me that Steven and Anne had been sleeping together for two months now," she commented.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Rose sat up quickly, wrapping her arms around him, "Thank you," she whispered, "for dealing with me tonight and always being willing to deal with me."

"Anything for you," he told her, holding her tight. After a beat, he began to let go but Rose clung to him.

"Please stay," she said softly.

Scorpius nodded silently and she released him. He laid down beside her, discarding his tie to the floor, and settling against the pillow.

Rose's hand found his and held tight.


	2. Rose's Dreams

"Mm, Scor, I forgot to tell you," Rose said around bites of ham sandwich, "I had a really weird dream last night that you were in."

"Yeah?" he asked curiously, picking another sandwich half from the staggering pile, "What happened?" Scorpius enjoyed these lunches, the Great Hall was buzzing with the conversations of students and when he spoke to Rose, it felt as if they were in their own bubble. He liked sharing a bubble with Rose.

"Okay, so I was trying to finish my essay, pretty standard so far," she paused to eat a carrot and Scorpius nodded along, "and then you kept poking my shoulder and trying to get my attention."

As usual, Scorpius thought sadly. He loved the feeling of Rose's attention, she always gave things her full focus. She made people feel important. Or maybe that was just how she made him feel.

"Anyway, so finally I was like, 'What is it?' and you sat down next to me and informed me you were very disappointed I wouldn't go out with you," Rose paused for effect and Scorpius tried not to blush, "But I had to keep telling you that you were being ridiculous because I was eighty years old! Can you believe that, Scor? You wanted to date elderly me."

Scorpius let out a small laugh, "Yeah, I'd much rather go out with young you."

Rose's hand froze halfway to her mouth, sandwich dangling from her fingers, "What?"

"Oh, er, you know," he stammered, "'Cause I wouldn't want to go out with old you but–—you know what, I gotta go. Time for class," Scorpius managed, forcing a quick laugh before speeding away.

"Shit," Rose murmured, "and he still won't ask me out."


	3. Shivers

And she's shivering still. Under warm blankets and wrapped in the heat of his arms. She shivers, violent and tortured. He wishes he could draw the cold from her but it runs in her veins and circles through her head and she's so far gone.

Goosebumps on her back like sandpaper on his chest but he folds her in closer closer warmer closer.


	4. When It Lived

It was much more expansive than she'd expected, though Rose was not entirely sure what she had expected. The Manor stood dark and looming against dead grass and wilted gardens. She could see it, in the back of her mind, how terribly colorful the flowers must have once been. The plants seemed to sense the death of an era as well.

"We don't have to go in," Rose said, glancing over at Scorpius.

He closed his eyes, "No," he said, opening them, "I wanted to come back... I haven't been here in ages, that's all. It's different."

"Was it green when you lived here?" she asked carefully.

Scorpius nodded, "It used to be alive," and his words fell heavy on their shoulders.


	5. What He Knows About Rose

She had a dimpled chin. It was a small thing to notice about Rose but it had been one of the first specific things Scorpius had noticed. For Rose Weasley had the type of face that, if he had seen her from the lips up, he would have pictured with a flat chin. It made her face look unusual in the way that a mirror catches light; oddly corporeal. He liked it like he liked everything about her. Scorpius was attracted to her like the crash of a wave was attracted to the sand.


	6. Height Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really a drabble, could be a fic, but I'm unsure of it so it's going in here for now.

It’s first year and Rose is trying to write a 30 centimeter long paper for the first time in her life. Slowly, the common room has emptied, yawning students retiring to warm beds, and Rose is left with herself and a few other older kids cramming in assignments.

“I hate this,” Rose mutters under her breath, glancing over her barely 18 centimeter paper. She’s at a loss for how to expand it and can’t help but think longingly of the soft pillow waiting for her.

“You should add in a paragraph about how the magical properties of the bezoar were first discovered,” came a quiet voice, gentle over Rose’s shoulder.

She spun around quickly and nearly dropped her quill. It was _that_ boy. The snow-blond, silver-eyed boy her father had warned her away from on the platform. And he was trying to help her with her essay. He was also, Rose noted with a tiny smile, terribly short. Rose thought about her dad’s warning and then she thought about how she was a Ravenclaw in need of desperate school help. She decided to use her own logic.

“Oh, thank you,” she said with a relieved smile, “what book did you find that information in?”

He smiled back at her, pretty white teeth shining, “Here,” he said, taking a seat beside her, “I’ll help you, if that’s okay?”

“Yes! Definitely!” Rose said, turning her essay towards him, “Thank you so much. I’m Rose, by the way.”

“I’m Scorpius,” he said before directing his attention towards her essay.

 

* * *

 

It’s second year and Rose is running through the corridor, shoulders bumping other students and book bag thumping her side.

“Scor!” she yelled, catching up to him and throwing a skinny arm around his shoulders.

“Merlin, Rose,” he said, shaking his head at her, “why are you sprinting?”

“Not sprinting,” she clarified, “If I were sprinting, you would know. But the reason for my running is I’ve just got my results back from McIwan’s most recent exam.”

“And I assume they’re brilliant? Based on your grin,” Scorpius asked, shrugging off her shoulder. Rose nearly laughed, she knew Scorpius disliked any reminder of how much taller than him Rose was. However, he was quite possibly the only boy Rose was taller than so she rather liked the reminder.

“Oh, absolutely,” Rose said, “and, of course, completely thanks to you.”

Scorpius smiled, small and humble, “You don’t have to say that. You’re genius, Rose. I’m just good at taking exams.”

“Whatever, Scor, you know it was all you.”

And he smiled because, yes, he knew that Rose had done well because of him but all he had done was told her to study.

 

* * *

 

It’s third year and Rose is stretched out in front of the fireplace, Scorpius’ socked feet resting on her back.

“You know you’ll do fine,” he said from where he sat back against the sofa.

Rose groaned, squeezing her eyes shut, “What if I don’t make it? There’s only two beater positions and I could easily not get one.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes, “Rose, c’mon, you’ve made me help you practice everyday for a month. If you don’t get on the team, I will personally be offended and I will march over to Ella Chang and tell her she’s made a huge mistake.”

“That’s very nice, Scor, but Ella is three years above us and probably a foot taller than you,” Rose smirked, she knew the height dig would get him. She also knew most of it was pretend annoyance just to make her feel like she’d said something witty.

Scorpius dug his foot into Rose’s back, “Shut up. My mum said I’d get tall real soon. Happened to my dad, as well. Just in the genes. Who knows Rosie, I’ll probably be taller than you soon.”

Rose scoffed, “Yeah, okay, if you say so… Oh Merlin, what if they keep me as a substitute? James would never let me live that down.”

 

* * *

 

It’s fourth year and Rose is hugging Scorpius goodbye on the platform, still at least 14 centimeters taller than him.

“I don’t see how an entire summer in Paris is going to do you any good,” she said, releasing him.

“I know, I know,” he said, “Mum wants to spend time with her family and wants Dad and me to improve our French.”

“But did she forget that you’re going to be leaving behind a very lonely best friend all summer?” Rose asked, hiking her bag onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” Scorpius said, “I promise to write you all the time.”

“You better,” Rose said, beginning to back away towards her family, “I’m going to be extremely bored!”

“I know, Rose!” he said with a wave before disappearing into the crowd of reuniting families.

 

* * *

 

It’s fifth year and Rose is waiting in one of the train’s tiny compartments, book in hand and glasses slowly falling down her nose.

She’d been waiting on Scorpius for over ten minutes and she hoped he hadn’t missed the train somehow. After the click of the door opening, she saw his face first. High cheekbones and silver eyes, exactly how he always was. Then she saw his legs. Long. So terribly long.

“Holy shit,” Rose exclaimed, shoving her glasses up, “What happened to you?” His hair is impeccable and his black sweater fits perfectly. He’s Scorpius in, Rose decides, top form.

“Oh, you know,” he said smugly, “Just a little height added.”

“Merlin, Scor, you’ve grown a quarter meter taller than me,” Rose couldn’t believe it. For so long, she’d been the tall friend. Not Scorpius. Not suddenly styled, suddenly hot-as-hell Scorpius.

She also couldn’t believe her incredible bad luck. For so long, Rose had been comfortable fancying Scorpius in secret. Other girls tended to overlook how wonderful he was due to his short height. Now, Rose was entirely positive they’d want to jump him as much as she did.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said, taking a seat, the smile never leaving his face, “So what do you think, shortie?”

“I don’t know how to react, honestly,” Rose said, but it wasn’t honest. She just wanted to kiss him.

“You know, I think this height gave me some sort of new confidence,” he said, fingers tapping on his knee. Rose couldn’t stop glancing at his new long legs.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I thought I’d just say,” one deep breath, in and out, “I think you’re brilliant, Rose, and I’d love to kiss you. But not in a one-time thing. In a romantic way. Like I’m, er, into you. Well but like in a relationship way. Shit, maybe I’m not that confident. Sorry, maybe ignore all that.”

“No,” Rose said, shaking her head, “Not ignoring that.” And she pressed off her seat, hands pulling at his sweater and lips landing warm on his. Merlin, he was wonderful, Rose thought before every thought left her head.


	7. Don't Save Her

He wants to help her, save her, but the world is cruel and saving people has never been more redundant. He wonders what his dad would think. He hears it when he sleeps and says it when his only company is dry air and empty rooms.

Save yourself, Draco had said, I couldn't.

For so long he'd wondered. Had his father tried to save him? From what?

His mum had explained it through bottles of wine and choked sobs. He couldn't save himself, her voice is wet with grief, so you save yourself, baby, don't let those men who lost our Draco try to save you. They always fail.

Years later, when the bottles were banned and his mum kept her addictions on harmless habits, she'd shown a face a shame and told him it wasn't their fault. Those men tried to save Draco but it wasn't their fault. It wasn't their fault.

He wondered how to apply any of their lessons to saving someone else. He didn't know what to do when he wasn't the victim. He didn't have the words to instruct him.

Scorpius took a step forward, hand already reaching for her fragile shoulder. He'd help her. He wouldn't save her but he'd help her. He knew what she couldn't; he knew she could save herself.


	8. Like Glass

She runs a hand like glass up his chest and he's cracking beneath her fingertips, little pieces held in place with tape and hot glue and now they're falling off the moon under her icicle hands.

Her words fall even lower than her breath and he can hardly hear her over the quiet beat of his slowing heart, "What will we do," she whispers and he can't tell if it's a question, "what will we do; what will we do; I love you."

He lets her hand pause and rest while his thoughts form gentle on his pale lips, frozen from her, "I don't know; I don't know; I don't know; I love you."

She's blank now and he hopes he hasn't burned her to dust but when he looks down she's still there with her floral hair tangled in his hands. He can't help it when he reaches a hand to hold the one that's freezing on his chest. Her fingers melt to water in his grasp and it's all he can do to hold on and hope she doesn't slip away.

 


	9. The Bandaging

In the end they don't mean to come together but they fall together in thousands of shattering shards of glass and it's impossible to stand up without each other to patch them up. Rose wonders if they can stay like this forever or if the bandaging will be done and so will they. She hopes his hand still wants to fix her spine when she's curled around her stomach so hollow from crying over the scars that tore through her like arrows.

 


	10. Skirting Gentle

She's with a boy whose heartbeat she can barely hear and her hands follow the flutter of his quiet heart, skirting gentle on his chest.

"Sometimes," he breathes, heated hand melting her cheek, "I think I could love you forever. I've never been more terrified."

Rose's hand catches on his chest and her breath stalls in her throat, "you love me?" she asks him, thinking of the bruises that bloom so silently on his fragile skin.

He tucks a curl of her shadowy hair behind her ear and nods gently, "You won't break me if you can't say it back right now. I'm already broken." 

"I don't know what love is," Rose whispers into his shoulder, ice in her eyes and everything stings. 

Scorpius smiles, a small wry thing, and kisses the top of her head, "That's okay," he tells her, "I'll be here when you know what it is. Don't worry."

She can hardly belive it. Here she is with this furnace of a boy whose cautious heart is sitting in her hand and _he's_ consoling _her_. Rose thinks if she could love anyone, it could certainly be Scorpius.

 


	11. Too Much Like the Snow

Rose was the fresh soil of spring that brought life back, charming and reverberating. He only worried he was too much like the snow that covered new beginnings and gave gray death to forming lives. How was Scorpius to be the blanket for her without killing her? He wondered and wondered but the thoughts still stayed while he looked at her cinnamon hair and thought of hope.

 


	12. Barely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snippet actually will appear later on in my story 'When We Were Alive' so if you don't want to be spoiled then don't read this lol

He was running after her, thick cloak flying out behind him as he ran for her. He watched as Rose slowed and disapearred into the tall snowy pines. Vaguely breathless, Scorpius ducked through the needled trees and came upon a clearing. It was barren and beautiful and he would've paused to wonder where they were if he wasn't focused on Rose.

She had crumpled to the ground, arms curled around her bent knees and tears like ice clawing down her frozen cheeks.

"Rose," he breathed, kneeling down beside her, "Rose..." Cautiously, he reached a hand out to hold her thin elbow. She glanced up at him and let him help her stand, legs wobbling as she rose.

"What are you doing?" she choked out, words so rough they'd been carved from stone.

With sadness in his eyes he reached up his hands to brush the tears from her face, her name falling from his lips with every tear he dried. "What happened?"

Rose shrugged, letting his warm hands press into her bitingly cold jaw, "I don't know," she whispered, glancing up at him, eyes like honey and melting beneath his gaze, "Everything feels so... off."

He let out a shakey breath, wishing she'd say his name. Just once. "I missed you," he mumbled, "I missed you something terrible."

A sad smile curled at her lips, "I missed you too. I kept waiting. I thought you'd talk to me. You always spoke first. I should have just, I don't know, talked to you myself."

"It doesn't matter, Rose," he told her, warm hands still curled around her darkened face, "It already happened. We can't change it anymore. It's not your fault."

Scorpius felt as if those had been the words she'd been waiting for. Rose crashed into him, cloaked arms fitting tightly around his waist, pressing herself into him. Startled but not hesitant, he allowed his arms to wrap snugly around her shoulders, resting his cheek on the top of her wild hair.

"I'm so glad you're here, Scorpius," she murmured into his chest, so quiet he barely heard it. _Barely_.

 


	13. Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I don't even kno what this one is abt but it sounds like the beginning of angst and unhappy endings which honestly seems to be all i can write abt lol

Rose’s eyes were honey and Scorpius was drowning in them, sugar filling his throat until he was sure he’d die.

It wasn’t drowning in the way that felt full and in love. It was drowning in the way that made him want to punch the wall and scream at the open air until someone finally told him that drowning in a girl who didn’t care wouldn’t be worth it in the end.


	14. Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might appear in 'When We Were Alive' later so if you don't want like a huge spoiler then don't read this lol because this is prob like what will happen in the end of that fic

He looked at Rose and he knew she wanted out and that his life couldn’t thread it’s way through hers anymore. He could see it when she tried to smile at him but her lips warbled until they fell flat. He could see it when she laughed at someone’s joke but her eyes sank sadly towards him.

Scorpius wanted to bar the doors and hold her in his life forever. He wanted to spend afternoons spread across gardens with Rose laughing in his arms but then his dreams crumbled until her laughs were cracking and his smile was upside-down. Any future with Rose would kill him just as much as it would kill her. So he stepped aside and held open the door and let her go.


	15. White Knuckles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could be an epilogue to WWWA but idk so if u dont like sadness or spoilers for my other fic then dont read

His hands are tight and veins press against his skin, screaming to be free. With white knuckles and nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm, Scorpius watches the ivory aisle and waits for his soon-to-be wife.

Rose's eyes find his hands, all balled up and taut. She wants to crack open his fists and press his palm against her cheek, just one last time. Ian settles an arm around her bony shoulders and leans in close to her ear. His breath is warm but not unpleasent and Rose nearly hates him for this. She wishes he were rude or terrible so she'd have some excuse for not loving him. Ian's voice is the sweetest whisper when it slips past his lips and his words are making her hands tremble.

"Maybe this could be us soon," he's said. Rose nods briefly but turns her head, pretending to be fixated by the ceremony. A tear, fat and unforgiving, falls off her lashes, rolling quick down her dark cheeks.

She can feel Scorpius' eyes find her, drawn in by her sadness and she wishes he didn't have such a radar for her emotions. She can't help herself from looking towards him. Looking at Scorpius is like looking at love. Her heart is fluttering sadly and her lips tingle numbly. Rose's fingertips itch for his rough hands and pale skin.

Today, she finds darkness in his eyes. It's nearly enough to set her off sobbing. His usually bright gray eyes look like a storm is setting in, thunderous and ominously soon. Rose wants to throw herself into his arms and never have to think of anyone else again. Scorpius smiles sadly at her and Rose can vaguely hear Ian chatting with Albus in the background. She's glad Ian is distracted. She doesn't know how she'd explain the color that rushes to her face or the lift in the left corner of her mouth. With a heavy heart and understanding on his face, Scorpius nods solemnly and redirects his gaze to the aisle as the music picks up.

The guests hush and swivel in their folding chairs. Ian's arm still burns through Rose's skin. She hopes Scorpius doesn't see it. A corner is turned and there is Scorpius' fiancé, dress a bright white against her dark hair. She has a smile that lights up the room. She doesn't notice that Scorpius' smile is twitching with the threat of falling. Rose is glad the other woman doesn't notice. Scorpius deserved to be loved entirely and Rose knew, despite how she wished it were her, Scorpius' fiancé would love him irrevocably. So Rose forced a smile on her face and let herself lean into Ian, disallowing her mind to pretend he was Scorpius. One day, she thought, Scorpius might forget about Rose and maybe, if she were lucky, she'd forget about him.


End file.
